Page 2 of The Labyrinth

“Yes, again.” I hid my smile behind the wooden spoon. “You know Mr. Hendrik’s chickens haven’t laid an egg in weeks. Porridge is good for you, and it’ll keep you full until dinner. It makes your brain grow big and strong, and…”

Ettie rolled her eyes. “Rissaaa. Don’t be dumb.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Don’t use dumb words like dumb. You’re too smart. It’s warm enough for you to get up now.”

She climbed out of bed, painfully thin beneath her worn nightgown. I winced as I realized I could count each individual rib. I spooned out her portion of porridge, and then added some of my own to make up the slack. The poor girl needed protein. Hopefully today would be a good scrap day, and I could come home with a scrawny rabbit for dinner.

Hopefully. Hopefully. Hopefully. It felt like all I ever did was hope.

Ettie, now dressed, sat on the edge of the bed. I brought both of our bowls over. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

I took a bite of my porridge, trying to ignore the bland taste as I shoved it down my throat. It was food, and it was nutrition, and taste didn’t matter.Taste didn’t matter.But I bet those assholes in the Labyrinth ate fucking cake for breakfast. Pound cake slathered with thick, creamy icing. Not just one slice either, but the whole damn thing.If I pretended enough, I could almost imagine the gross porridge was cake. I had only tasted cake once, many years ago, but it didn’t stop me from remembering every moment of it.

“You’re moaning,” Ettie piped up. “Why are you moaning overporridge?” She pulled a face, and I laughed.

“If you must know, I was imagining it was a piece of cake.”

A frown creased her smooth forehead. “What’s cake?”

The cake must have been before Ettie was born, or when she was too young to remember it. I wondered if we still had the ingredients in the village to make a cake. Maybe, if I… “Cake is a dessert. It’s very sweet, and light. You’d love it.”

“Mmm.” Ettie’s noncommittal answer told me she had no idea what I was talking about, and that broke my heart. It wasn’t fair for a child not to know what cake was. But if I were honest with myself, none of this life was fair.

Wood scraped wood, and I realized we had both finished our breakfasts. A quick glance out the window at the rising sun told me we were running late for school, so I snatched the empty bowl out of her hand and added it to mine in the empty basket we used to collect dirty dishes. “Alright, inspection time.” I took Ettie’s face in my hand, licking my thumb to wipe off as much dust as I could. An impossibility, but one I attempted every morning just the same.

At that moment, my mother walked in the door, half asleep. Her brown hair, so like my own, was a tangled mess. Shit. We really were running late if she was home. I tugged Ettie’s hand out the door, tossing my mom a smile over my shoulder. “Hi, Mom. Bye, Mom. How was the night?”

My mother offered me a half-hearted wave before collapsing into bed. “Another day in paradise.”

Yeah. Not exactly the kind of glowing review that would make me take up her night job.

Pulling Ettie behind me, we rushed the short distance to school. Our village was small—a few dirt alleyways arranged in a circle, lined on either side with shacks built of any materials we could lay our hands on. A few of the houses were constructed with mud bricks, while others formed their walls with tattered sheets. The one thing they had in common was that they were all brown. In the center of the circle was the market, where people set up for trading or sale on small, dirty blankets. Some sold game, like where I’d hopefully buy a rabbit later today, and others sold tools. Some, like my mother, sold themselves.

“School” took place in an empty shack, no different than our home. Children from four to twelve all learned in the same room, although lately that age had been creeping younger and younger on both ends. Everyone else was already inside, so I gave Ettie a quick kiss and pushed her toward the door.

At eight, she was too cool for her older sister to kiss, and she brushed it off with a groan. “Rissa!”

After a quick glance around to make sure no one had noticed, she strode into the school with her head held high. My little treasure was looking a lot more grown up than yesterday. At the last minute, she turned around and barreled into me, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Love you, Rissa. Be safe today.”

I smiled, embracing her back. “I love you, too. And I’m always safe. Now go on, and get a good education so you can take care of me while I laze around and take baths all day.”

Immediately, the eye roll was back. “This isn’t the Labyrinth.” She pulled away and smiled.

I watched her walk through the door before I pulled my bandana out of my pack and tied it around my mouth. I tightened the straps of my satchel and set off for the far end of the village. It was the closest to the gates of the Labyrinth, but the best place to look for discarded treasures the monsters no longer cared for. If I wanted rabbit tonight, it was going to be my best bet.

Another fucking day in paradise, indeed.

* * *

It wasboth terrifying being outside of the village, and not. Merely being alive these days was dangerous. The village held some sort of protection—safety in numbers I supposed—but if the monsters wanted you, they’d have you regardless of where you were.

I pulled my bandana up higher, and considered my next move. I knew where I wanted to scavenge, a small ditch just outside of the gates. I usually only searched that ditch when Bear, the youngest of my older brothers, was with me. He was the only one who still supported me in scavenging, and protected Ettie like it was no one’s business. His name was rather fitting that way. Whenever Bear had a day off from the mines, which wasn’t often, he would take me to the more dangerous spots and we’d come home high off our finds. We weren’t supposed to scavenge too close to the walls, but sometimes we were desperate enough to risk the consequences when we were together.

Today, I was alone. The image of Ettie’s ribs was seared into my mind, taunting me. She needed protein. Which meant I needed to find a good haul. The ditch closest to the walls it was. I turned left, thankfully putting my back to the blowing dust, and began the hike over to the large, carved gates.

No one really knew what was on the inside. Mother said that whatever remained of our forest lived inside, and the monsters were keeping it all to themselves while we faded away to nothing just outside. Of course, they couldn’t afford for us all to die. Who would keep the mines running if no humans were left? So every once in a while, the monsters would throw out a carcass of a larger animal or two, and leave it for us to fight over.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they watched us as we ran for it, some of us desperate and starved enough to eat our serving raw.

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